


Perspectives

by DyingSucculents



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi, Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 07:29:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14848376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DyingSucculents/pseuds/DyingSucculents
Summary: After returning from the Citadel, Fives is forced to face what the Republic truly thinks of Echo's sacrifice. It doesn't sit well with him at all. Luckily, a certain commander is there to help.





	Perspectives

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever written for anything ever, with a side of 'i'm in a huge writing slump and i can't seem to get out,' so stick with me. On that note, I love the Clone Wars and the clones are never undeserving of attention. This is a biproduct of both.

"Of Master Piell's loss, we are sorry to hear."

Near the exit to the gunship, Fives's helmet dipped slightly at the sound of the Jedi Master's words. Master Piell. Of course. It was only natural that the Jedi were upset over the loss of Master Even Piell at the Citadel -- but Fives, as numb as he felt, couldn't help but clench his fists bitterly.

 _Of Master Piell's loss, we are sorry to hear._ But what about Echo?

"Because of his great sacrifice...," the Kel Dor Jedi was beginning to speak now, but the sudden buzzing sound in Fives's ears drowned out the rest. _His_ sacrifice? The extraction team had come to rescue _him._ When they had landed on Lola Sayu, Echo was still alive. His brother was risking his life to rescue Piell, and on that landing platform... _that kriffing landing platform_... Echo had given his life in hopes that he could provide a means of escape. The act was selfless and foolishly brave. Fives could still feel the platform rock as the shuttle exploded, knocking him to the ground as white-hot flames engulfed the craft -- and Echo along with it. The words that General Kenobi spoke next, however, were practically as terrifying to hear as the sound of the explosion.

_We have to go, now._

There was no room for choice, so Fives followed orders and left, but not after laying eyes on his brother's crumpled and scorched helmet. He had felt numb ever since.

Numb as he followed General Skywalker and Commander Tano alongside the magma rivers.  
Numb as he watched Piell leave with his commander.  
Numb as he watched her return with his form slung over her shoulder.  
Numb as he stood as alone as he had ever been, watching as the Jedi carefully lowered Piell's body into the molten lava -- an honor Echo had never been granted.

But now, that same numb feeling washed away as swiftly as it had arrived, replaced with a fury that made Lola Sayu's magma run cold. _Echo was gone_. Fives was alone -- the last of Domino, and the Jedi hadn't offered as much as an apology, let alone the remembrance they had granted Piell.

The Jedi seemed to be finishing up their discussion as Fives stormed off the gunship and down the pathway towards the midday shadows of the Galactic Senate building. His fists were still clenched, his helmet still lowered for fear of seeing another brother's face. The ARC hadn't an idea as to where he was going, but he knew he was looking for solitude... preferably as soon as he could possibly find it.

The shadow of the overhanging Galactic Senate roof engulfed Fives's form and he swerved right, deftly leaning to avoid a Twi'lek dignitary who was exiting the building. The Twi'lek gave an astonished yelp and nearly swatted his pauldron, but Fives couldn't manage even a whisper of an apology, instead turning away and making for a shallow alley darkened by the roof's edge.

Behind his visor, Fives's eyes burned. _Of Master Piell's loss, we are sorry to hear._ Echo's absence alone was enough to drill a gaping hole into the depths of Fives's chest, but the more he dwelled on the Grandmaster's words, the more the pit deepened. Suddenly, everything seemed so much colder. Fives had always known that the clones were a vital part of the Republic's war effort. He had accepted that losing men would be inevitable, and he had realized that others didn't bear the same grief that he and his brothers did every time another man was lost. But this? It just wasn't fair. He had lost brothers before, but Echo was _always_ supposed to be there. When he suddenly wasn't and Fives's world seemed to fall away, the Republic paid no heed. They instead focused on one dead jedi, paying respects while Echo lay -- for all Fives knew -- burned and abandoned on the landing pad. _It had always been this way._

With a shattered cry, Fives ripped his helmet off and hurled it against the alley wall with all the strength he could muster. The piece slammed against the duracrete and bounced back, rolling a few feet across the ground before bumping against the toe of Fives's boot and stopping. He could see the visor was cracked now, and similar to the remains of Echo's helmet, his viewfinder was bent and twisted. The sound of his own voice echoing against the alley walls only seemed to mock him, so he turned to step out of the alcove for a moment, but stopped instantly. His breath caught in his throat.  
  
"Fives, you almost hit Senator Orn... Oh." Commander Tano's voice cut through the tense atmosphere and Fives impulsively straightened, his head bowed slightly. The commander had followed him. Even now, he could still seen the lines of concern in her brow, although they were quickly being washed away by an expression that spoke only of surprise, which quickly morphed into realization and then utter sorrow. His stomach clenched with something similar to embarrassment when he realized she could hear the echoes of his cry that still resounded in the alley. To make matters worse, his cracked helmet stood out against the dark duracrete, a testament to his lapse in control. It was still wobbling slightly. Fives saw Ahsoka's attention catch on it, her gaze dipping for a second before lifting back to study his face.

"I'm sorry." Her words caught Fives off-guard, hitting him like a punch in the gut. The words that came next, however, felt like someone had slid a vibroblade between his ribs. "I wish we could have gone back for him."

"You _wish_ , sir?" Fives asked, his voice accusatory despite himself. He forced himself to meet her eyes, and was surprised to see them welling with unshed tears. _She knew Echo, too, di'kut,_ a voice berated inwardly, only to be countered instantly:  _But if she cared, she would have gone back._

Ahsoka's gaze didn't falter, but her shoulders seemed to slump. "Ahsoka," she finally corrected after what seemed like a lifetime of silence. "Right now, I'm just Ahsoka. Mourning a friend just as you are, Fives." Then she grimaced. Fives knew from the reaction that she regretted the way it came out, but that didn't stop the absolute fury that her words invoked. She had  _no right_ to compare her situation to his. She still had the general, the  _jedi_... He had  _nothing_.

"And what was he to you?" Fives practically spat, pulling himself up to his full height. "He was all I had left,  _sir_. You would _never_ understand." 

"Fives..."

" _Sir_. If he meant _that much_ to you, why didn't you go back for him? Did you need more time for Piell's funeral? Does some  _kriffing_ jedi mean more to you than _Echo_?" 

Ahsoka's mouth snapped shut, and Fives instantly realized what he had said. His conscience twisted uncomfortably, caught between surrendering to the bubbling rage and its accompanying stubbornness by staying silent, or doing the right thing. A few seconds and he gave in to the latter. "Sir," Fives faltered, voice coming out soft and undeniably broken." Ahsoka, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just miss..." And just like that, Fives felt his defenses fall. An avalanche of emotions washed over his rage, extinguishing it completely. It was indescribable -- a mix of something similar to the strongest sorrow he had ever felt -- loss, emptiness, yet acceptance. Acceptance was what made it hurt the most, and it took all Fives had not to sink to his knees in front of his commander. His commander, who was suddenly at his side in the blink of an eye, arms wrapped around his torso with enough strength to make his armor creak. 

Fives recalled hearing something from Commander Bly a while back, maybe half a standard year ago. Jedi could sense emotions, he had said. Fives had chuckled at the thought then, sharing it with Echo over a good-humored evening at 79's, but one glance down at the small commander plastered to his midsection, tears tracking silvery trails down her ochre cheeks, put some truth to Bly's words. It also, oddly, made Fives feel infinitely less alone. Silently, the ARC settled his own arms around Ahsoka's shoulders, half of him expecting her to tense; she didn't. Instead, she stayed, pulled against Fives torso for a while -- for as long as she felt he needed it, he supposed -- and let Galactic City move on without them outside the shallow alley. 

At last, Ahsoka looked up. Her eyes, watery but not red, seemed to search his face before, with a subtly satisfied nod, she gave Fives one last tight squeeze and pulled back. Feeling oddly warm, Fives offered a small smile, reaching one hand up subconsciously to brush away a trickling sensation that he was suddenly aware of on his cheek. His glove came away smudged wet. Fives' face morphed into something unreadable, pulling a tiny laugh from Ahsoka.

"It's bound to happen, Fives," she chuckled. "It's... a good thing. Better to let it out than bottle it up."

"Thank you," replied Fives, suddenly feeling awkward, but overwhelming relieved. 

With a nod, Ahsoka turned on her heel, making her way out of the alley and towards the direction of what Fives assumed was the Jedi Temple. Her lithe figure paused at the entrance, montrals tipping the side a bit in a contemplating manner. "It may feel like it for a while, Fives," came her voice, soft after a period of silence, "but you're not alone."

And then she was gone, her shadow bobbing away and disappearing a few moments after she did. The sounds of the city poured through the opening to the alley where Ahsoka had once been, and Fives found himself standing alone, half in the darkness and half out of it, bathed in the golden light of the late-afternoon Coruscant sun. Her words held some finality to them, as if one era was ending and another was beginning. It left Fives with a feeling that wasn't quite nostalgia and wasn't quite hope, but a mix of both. Yes, he was a clone; that fact remained the same, as did the painful reminder that his life seemed --  _was_ \-- far less important than any other's in the galaxy. But that didn't mean Echo's life had been pointless. Echo had saved him countless times over the years, and Fives thought, just maybe, he could do something important enough to make Echo's sacrifice worth it. If he could help one -- maybe two, even three -- brothers make it out of this terrible, confusing war alive, he could die fulfilling a purpose. If he was lucky, it would be an honorable death, like Echo's. 

 _You're not alone_.

No, perhaps he wasn't. No brother ever was.


End file.
